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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899049">Mentor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatstarlitsky/pseuds/thatstarlitsky'>thatstarlitsky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band), Eden (Korea Musician)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Gen, God Bless Eden, Mentors, Short &amp; Sweet, Students</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:20:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatstarlitsky/pseuds/thatstarlitsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Yonghwan never wanted a student. He found one in Hongjoong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Hongjoong/Kim Yonghwan | Eden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mentor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based off Eden's MTV interview where he mentioned telling Hongjoong to memorize 200 words (and Hongjoong coming back successful, much to his surprise)</p><p>I'll probably change this title later if I come up with something better. I was really stuck on it so...Mentor it is.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a joke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan was so certain of this fact that he’d <em>laughed</em> and said, ‘well alright’, before he was left alone with this...boy. That was the only way to describe Kim Hongjoong as he bent over a laptop that looked about as beat up as he felt. He pulled up a piece of music – one he’d written himself – and gave him a small, shy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan listened. Then, he realized he was supposed to give <em>feedback</em>. He didn’t even know where to begin. The rhythm was stale and repetitive, there was no depth to the instrumentals, and worst of all, he had to sit through it for three and a half minutes resisting the urge to yawn. He bit his tongue. Yonghwan would compare it to a shitty wafer cookie, where the same damn thing was laid over itself over and over again. All of these things sat at the tip of his tongue, but the tiny voice at the back of his mind saying <em>be nice</em> held him back. After all, Yonghwan had been there once. He didn’t dare listen to his first attempts at composing, even just to see how far he’d come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, the boy – Kim Hongjoong – was bouncing on his toes, eagerly waiting for all of his harsh criticisms. He didn’t even look <em>ashamed</em> of what he’d just put on display, and that proved just how much work they needed to do. Yonghwan ran a hand through his bangs. He grabbed his coffee and sipped it. It was cold, like his fire to teach this upstart idol how to make music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you actually <em>know </em>about music?” Yonghwan finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong shrugged a little. “I mean...I’m self taught. But I’ve always wanted a teacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Join the club, kid,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yonghwan thought tiredly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your audio is clipped,” Yonghwan said, gesturing to the laptop and drawing Hongjoong’s attention back towards it. “Did you use a sound board?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong shook his head. “I...used the instruments the program had?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus Christ</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yonghwan thought. The kid’s using basic samples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean by ‘clipped’...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, this was bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan ran a hand through his bangs again. He downed the rest of his cold coffee to distract his senses from just how <em>tired</em> he’d become.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, kid,” Yonghwan said, not feeling bad at the way Hongjoong grimaced at the word ‘kid’. “I’m not going to lie to you; you have no idea what you’re doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong’s face fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re starting from basics. Here,” Yonghwan turned to his own laptop and quickly dug up a glossary of terminologies – including ‘clipping’ – and showed it to Hongjoong. “You need to memorize all of these by tomorrow – then I can teach you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a nervous quiver in Hongjoong’s lip. Yet, his eager young eyes scanned the words on Yonghwan’s screen with a deep reverence. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s impossible,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yonghwan thought. Hongjoong wouldn’t able to do it, and then Yonghwan would tell him to quit – to just become an idol and let his producers do the work for him. He couldn’t teach. He’d never been taught. Music had come naturally, and if it wasn’t coming naturally to this kid, then it was pointless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hongjoong left that day, Yonghwan thought that was the end of it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It <em>had</em> to have been a joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this time, Yonghwan wasn’t laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid’s legs were nearly shaking with exhaustion as he recited words – alphabetically. His face was puffy, and the dark circles under his eyes left no question as to <em>why</em>. Hongjoong had stayed up all night, memorizing that dummy list of words Yonghwan had expected to use as ammunition to shut the kid down before he could throw valuable hours into something he would never be good at. Yet, <em>here he was</em>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hongjoong got to the Js, Yonghwan stood up and put an end to it. He sat Hongjoong down on his couch and pressed a hand to his forehead. He was cool to the touch, and that worried Yonghwan more than his initial concerns of a fever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you eat breakfast?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot,” Yonghwan scolded. Hongjoong was so tired, he didn’t even flinch. “Stay there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the room. The convenience store barely a block from the studio was a blessing on most days, but even more so today. He grabbed a triangle kimbap and a bottle of water before returning to the studio. Hongjoong was nearly asleep when he returned, but jumped to attention when the door swung open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat, drink,” Yonghwan said, and shoved the food into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong fumbled with the kimbap wrapper. Yonghwan sighed and ripped it open for him. He waited until Hongjoong was halfway through it before speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re crazy, Hongjoong,” Yonghwan said. The small trickle of fear that had been filling him since seeing the high schooler so critically exhausted began to fade. “First rule of composing: <em>rest when you need it</em>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to prove I could do it,” Hongjoong said through a mouthful of rice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And holy <em>shit</em> he had. Yonghwan ran a hand through his hair again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I <em>really</em> want you to teach me, seonbae.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seonbae</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wow, that term left a strange taste in his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Yonghwan said, sitting back down in his chair. “I underestimated you. I thought this would make you quit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head. “Never,” he said. “This is my <em>dream</em>. I’ll do anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Short of selling your goddamned soul, I hope,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yonghwan thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first thing you’re going to do is rest,” he said. “Go back to your dorm, get at least four hours – understand? I don’t want to see you back here before five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong brightened. “Yes—okay. Thank you, seonbae!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan shuddered at the word this time. Hongjoong didn’t see it. The door had already swung shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little shit was back at 5:05, on the dot with a bright smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan was on his third cup of coffee when Hongjoong came into his studio. Many years had passed since that day, and Hongjoong had worn an indent into the cushion of his favourite spot on the couch as of two years ago. He sank into it now with his laptop on his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you busy?” Hongjoong asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was,” Yonghwan replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong wrinkled his nose at him. His white teeth glinted in the dim lighting. Yonghwan couldn’t help the bubble of affection that slid up in him. He ran his hand through his hair to resist the urge to ruffle Hongjoong’s fluffy, white locks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” Yonghwan asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Hongjoong snickered. “What they don’t know won’t kill them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Brat,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yonghwan thought, but he was smiling into his computer screen. “Show me what you have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The music that played was, and Yonghwan could admit it, lovely. Hongjoong had a taste for buildups and he played with musical tension to the point where Yonghwan always anticipated the next notes. Hongjoong’s music had a flavour, even if it was reminiscent of his own. It was nothing like the bland wafer he’d handed Yonghwan that first day in the studio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the song ended, Hongjoong looked up at him expectantly. Yonghwan put up his hands in a shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have nothing to add,” he simply said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, there has to be something,” Hongjoong said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing,” Yonghwan replied, then turned back to his computer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong huffed and set his laptop aside. “How long have you been in here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since about eight this morning,” Yonghwan replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong looked at his watch. “Did you eat lunch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hongjoong clicked his tongue. Then he stood up and grabbed the back of Yonghwan’s chair. He pulled it smoothly away from the computer. His mouse nearly toppled to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First rule of composing,” Hongjoong said in his ear. “<em>Rest when you need it.</em> Let’s go get lunch, hyung.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yonghwan couldn’t argue. He just laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a funny joke.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love Eden. Don't try to change my mind ;3;</p></blockquote></div></div>
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